i think, not only speak, in rhymes

my mind is playing tricks on me.

i keep imagining that im like you but i dont know you.

my thoughts are infinitely vacant, and i need to write the vacancies that occupy my mind...
i would rather be filled with memories, is that ok?

fear and pain deals a lot with memories, dont you think?

but god damn, the memory is such a subjective thing. dont you think?

now im gonna be stuck in your mind and
in your mindset
and way of
thinking
for the rest of the goddamn day
doyouseewhattyoudotome

fuck you.